Games
by Cheecho
Summary: Set during Awakenings. Non-Queen Cousland/Anders. They play games outside the Circle, too.


Okay, so Alistair is my first Dragon Age love, and he'll always have a place in my heart, but Anders makes for much better NSFW writing, which this definitely is.

Also, why aren't there any Couslands who like sleeping with the King but don't want to be Queen? Queen-Consort has got to be less interesting than stopping a Blight. By a lot.

**Games**

* * *

Jahaila Cousland had several very good reasons for recruiting Anders, which she found herself repeating to Oghren at the first available opportunity.

Firstly, Jahaila was sympathetic to mages in general, having become so fond of Morrigan during the Blight. Secondly, she was especially sympathetic to mages who wanted freedom from the Circle, as she was very familiar with the sense of being trapped in an unwanted life by a trick of birth. Thirdly, whether he had killed the darkspawn, the templars, or both in that room, he was going to be useful. Even if he just managed to stay alive in the room while the two groups killed each other, he'd be useful. Fourthly, Jahaila had committed the sin of focusing too much on kicking darkspawn ass and not enough on her ability to stay breathing when they clawed back at her. While this was clearly Wynne's fault, the sudden disappearance of a good healer had been an unwelcome wakeup call, and Jahaila was certain that Anders could help bridge that gap.

What Jahaila didn't have a good reason for, and what she managed to keep from Oghren, despite the ale he was pouring her, was the way her thoughts tended to linger on him.

Well, she thought, stumbling her way to her bedchamber, she supposed she could think of a few good reasons there too. She liked his easy humour and lighthearted flirtations. The reason that she didn't like thinking about these things was because they reminded her of Alistair, and she definitely did not want to think about him. Bastard. She smirked to herself at the unintentionally accurate slight and flopped onto the bed, thankful that she'd remembered to remove her armour before she started drinking with the dwarf.

The next morning, she dragged herself out of bed late and went downstairs to see Nathaniel talking earnestly to Seneschal Varel with an expression of concern on his face. She had one good reason for recruiting him, and it had worked out exactly right. She had no interest in being Arlessa and knew that Nathaniel would be excellent at it, just as soon as he decided that he didn't want to kill her anymore. Which took exactly one good talk. They'd known each other for far too long for him to maintain an air of righteousness about his father.

Yes, Jahaila had no interest in being Arlessa, just like she had no interest in being Queen of Fereldan. She'd thought she'd left all that gladly behind at Highever and had been more than clear about the conditions of her continued involvement with Alistair, but he was getting whiney about her repeated refusals to marry him and she was getting annoyed that he kept bringing it up. Why on earth did he think that the Hero of Fereldan would make a good Queen? Was it her rude impatience at the meandering, ever-circular court talk? Her gladly celebrated inability to have children? Her fondness for front-line soldiering? King's mistress suited her just fine, even if Fergus was livid at the perceived slight on Cousland honour. She'd have thought that the consolidating Fereldan's only two teyrns under one name – his – would have appeased him, but no. Noblemen could be so silly.

She crossed the throne room to the kitchens and sat down at the large wooden table where she ate with her few surviving Wardens. Oghren was there, in fine high spirits, and Jahaila glared at him for being well. He winked at her, and Sigrun rolled her eyes at both. Anders came in to the room not long after Jahaila and dragged a stool to Oghren's side and sat down across from her.

"Morning, all," he said as he reached across the table for the platter of cold chicken. He piled eight legs onto his small wood plate.

Oghren chuckled at him, "I told you you'd start eating like a dwarf."

"How do you know I didn't just go hungry on the run?"

Oghren gestured across the table at Jahaila, "Once at an inn, I watched her and Alistair consume 10 meat pies between the two of them, and we hadn't missed a meal or even walked that far in days. It was an inspiration."

Anders glanced across the table at Jahaila, who had the grease of a chicken wing smeared across her face. "Well, she doesn't look any larger for it, so I'll take my chances too." This was so like another comment that Alistair had made that Jahaila inhaled a piece of chicken and coughed. Sigrun slammed her on the back and it dislodged. "No offense," Anders said. Then he winked at her and went to work on the pile of chicken. Jahaila finished her pile of chicken, drank several large glasses of water, and went back to bed.

The thing about Anders, she thought later, as she woke for the second time, was that he was like Alistair, but ... older. She was actually pretty sure that Anders was younger – there was a youthful thinness about his body – but he had a suaveness about him that put her off balance around him in a way that Alistair never had. Alistair had never had the upper hand in any conversation or situation, but Anders seemed to swim through company with ease. And there was something else too. Alistair might have hated the templars, but he'd sat there unresisting until Duncan had rescued him. Anders took matters into his own hands, and Jahaila couldn't imagine having to convince him to stand up to someone. That had a certain appeal, she realized.

* * *

Some nights later, Jahaila led her party back from some swamp to Amaranthine for a much needed bath and good meal at the Crown and Lion. Jahaila liked being in the city, as fewer people treated her like a ruler here. She had had enough "Sers" to last a lifetime. Power was one thing, she thought, but constant deference was boring, and she'd been sure to make her companions refer to her by name, rather than by title whenever they left the Keep. It was sometimes effective.

Nida, who was mercifully unimpressed by Jahaila's rank, managed to find them all separate rooms and went to work heating water. Jahaila claimed first bath and left the others arguing over who would go next. She overheard Anders foolishly agreeing to arm wrestle Sigrun for it. She heard his indignant cry as his hand was slammed unceremoniously into the bar. Sigrun laughed loudly, "You didn't think I was going to let you cast something on me first, did you?"

The bath was wonderful. There were a very few things she missed from her noblewoman's life. Good wine was one. Baths were the other. She bent her knees and moved herself downward so that her face sunk below the water. Slowly, she let her breath out, hoping to maximize her immersion. Between the muffling effect of the water and the bubbles rolling out of her lungs, she did not hear the door open and click shut again, and so she almost choked on the water when she opened her eyes and saw the silhouette of a man standing between the tub and the fire. She erupted out of the water with all her warrior's speed and was half way to her sword before she realized that the man was Anders, that his eyes were closed, and that he was holding his hands out in front of him. She realized, looking at him, how dirty and downright smelly they'd all been. No wonder Nida had been so keen to get their bath ready.

"Anders! I could have killed you!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"What in Andraste's knickers are you doing in here?"

He covered his eyes with one hand, head still turned. "I really don't want to have a bath after the dwarf."

"Take it up with her." Alarm made her impatient, but her rising interest made her annoyed at her own rudeness.

"Well, I lost the ... bet, and she's not budging, so I thought maybe I could convince you to let me in, real quick, right after you." Anders's words were imploring, but Jahaila could tell that he was not even remotely concerned that she was going to say no.

She was already clean and had been feeling guilty about hogging the water's warmth, so she sat up and reached for a towel. Anders did not try to peek. "What's in it for me?" she asked, trying for a playful tone. This was harder with the image of a certain King popping up in her mind.

He made a bow at her, hand still over his eyes, "Whatever her ladyship will accept."

"Make me an offer. You're my Warden, don't forget, so it had better be something I can't already order you to do."

"I am an excellent masseuse. Really. You won't have better."

"Accepted. Be quick."

Once inside her own room, she dried herself quickly and looked around for something to wear. She hadn't brought extra clothes from the Keep, and her armour was off getting cleaned, so all she had was her spare gambeson, which was too thick to massage through. She'd have to drape the towel over her. Or maybe the bedsheets – they were dryer.

She was still considering when Anders opened the door behind her and came inside. Unlike her, he had brought a spare set of robes. He was wearing them and had his dirty robes rolled in a bundle under his arm. He was clean, and his long blonde hair was dripping wet onto his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking it dry. Water droplets were thrown through the air, visible in the firelight. It was pretty damn sexy.

He glanced at her and grinned, "Thanks. That is way better." He pointed at the bed, "Lay down."

Jahaila hesitated. She had been very clear with Alistair about the terms of their continued involvement – and those terms did not include fidelity to a man she wasn't going to see for months at a time – and he'd agreed, but Jahaila was pretty sure he hadn't quite grasped what that was going to mean. On the other hand, she could see quite clearly where this evening was going. During the Landsmeet, Jahaila had briefly considered convincing Alistair to marry Anora. She would have enjoyed flaunting an affair with the King under Anora's nose. The two noblewomen had known each other from childhood and had always hated each other. Jahaila had thought better of it, not for Fereldan, for her, or for Anora, but because of Anora's comment at Alistair and Cailen's unmistakable similarity. She didn't want Alistair to have to go to be with some woman who would clearly think only of his half-brother. At the time, she thought Anora was being silly, but looking at Anders in the firelight, so like the firelight by which she'd taken Alistair's virginity, she thought maybe Anora had a point.

"Come on. I'll be good." He covered his eyes with his hand again, "See – no peeking." Fuck it, Jahaila thought. She dropped the towel and slipped under the thin blanket.

"Ready," she said. "Massage me."

She closed her eyes, but Anders did not touch her right away. She settled more comfortably into the mattress, shifting her hips and knees. The blankets were course but clean, and they felt good against her water softened skin. She breathed deeply and waited with a pleasant longing for his touch. It didn't come.

"Anders?" She raised her head to look at him. He was standing beside her bed, hands outstretched over her bare back.

"Lay still," he said, softly. Jahaila laid back down. For another moment, nothing happened, then he shifted the hair off her neck. Jahaila almost melted with pleasure. It had been months since anyone had touched her gently, and she realized how much she had missed the simple comfort of a body. After a moment, Anders spoke again, but he had an edge of concern to his voice. "I can't find any muscle tension at all."

Jahaila thought of the ominous red liquid she'd downed without a second thought at Soldier's Peak. Alistair hadn't been there, and she had decided to not tell him about it. Yet two reasons that she'd make a terrible Queen: her habit of secrecy; and the unhesitating use of unknown blood magic. Regardless, she wasn't about to enlighten this mage. "I'm remarkably fit."

"This obvious, but you are also a warrior. Warriors ache."

"Does this mean no massage for me?"

"I always pay my debts. I'm just curious."

Jahaila shrugged, and the indirect question dispersed into the warm inn air. It was really too pleasant a place to tell secrets about blood magic anyways.

Anders put his hands on her. There was no magic in them, like she had expected, but they were unexpectedly strong and still warm from the bath. He started at the small of her back, thumbs pressing into the muscle on either side of her spine, his fingers on the skin of her back. She felt her flesh give to the pressure of his hand. She had more fat on her body now than she had during the Blight, and she knew that it suited her. She glowed health and athleticism in a way that had always made her stand out from the other noblewoman, despite their often superior beauty. Besides, a little extra mass was never a bad thing when you were the only thing standing between your healer and charging ogre.

Anders worked on her back for a little while, and Jahaila realized that there was some truth to his earlier observation. His hands were strong and skilled – he had obviously done this before – but her pleasure at his touch was entirely due to the proximity of his body and the silk rub of skin on skin. During her training, she'd always had pulled muscles, woken up stiff, occasionally tore something badly enough to need a few days rest. This had been true during the early days of the Blight, but necessity had driven her through it, and she'd found that exercise a better cure than rest. But she could think of no serious injuries or even a sore shoulder since that first trip to Soldier's Peak.

"This is a little bit emasculating, you know."

"Pardon?" Jahaila asked, caught in the train of her own thoughts.

"You've been tramping around a marsh in a metal suit, carrying a sword I can't even lift, and standing between me and every stray monster. I've been trying to impress you by keeping up, but now I find that you're as hale as a Denerim marbari and I can't manage to heal my knee back into painlessness."

"That is pretty embarrassing. Maybe when it's your turn for first bath, you can trade me for a massage."

"Ooh. Do we take turns taking first bath?"

"No."

"Tease."

Jahaila smiled into the bedsheets. The mage continued his ministrations on her body and she felt her pleasure grow. His hands made a steady path up her back and down her arms. Despite his self-deprecating comments, he was fit and strong, and Jahaila relished his touch. She felt his hip touch her hip briefly as he reached across the bed to lift the blanket up, keeping it between his face and her newly naked body.

"Roll over," he commanded. She obeyed, and he let the sheet fall over her body. She felt it laying thinly across her round breasts and knew that their shape would be easily visible. "Hold still," he said, moving around her and placing his hands on her face, his thumbs on either side of her nose. "This might feel funny," he said, and he pushed.

There was a release of pressure in some hollow in Jahaila's cheeks that she never knew she had. "Oooooooo," she moaned and her jaw cracked loudly.

"That is stress, not fighting," he informed her.

"Ooooooooo," she moaned again.

"As pleased as I always am when I am the cause of a noise like that, you should probably keep it down. I don't want to escape the templars just to be executed for cuckholding the king."

Jahaila was too far gone in pleasure to be annoyed. "I'm not the Queen," she mumbled.

Anders moved his hands from the bridge of her nose to her forehead. He moved the skin in small, slow circles, working his way to her temples and jaw. He took her earlobes between thumb and finger and squeezed them. Jahaila made another moan, a smaller one. She shifted her legs under the blankets, and Anders let go of her. "All done," he said.

She opened her eyes and looked at the mage standing beside her bed. His pupils were dilated in the dim light of the room, and he was looking down at her with an expression of curiosity.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why aren't you the Queen?"

Jahaila felt relieved to be discussing it now, rather than later. "Not all cages are a circle, Anders."

He snorted, "Being the Circle is hardly comparable to being a monarch."

"I wouldn't take the Circle over the Palancec, but I'd pick this over either."

A crease appeared between his eyes. It seemed a common wrinkle, and Jahaila rose into one arm, letting the blanket hang over her hip. Anders glanced at it and she angled it toward him, an invitation. She was growing wet. He shook his head at her, "You don't know what it's like being at the Circle. The games that go on there."

"Games are just a way of having something you can't have."

"And what do you want, Warden Commander?"

"Tonight, or more generally?"

Anders shrugged.

"Tonight, I'd like some company. Tomorrow, who knows?"

Anders let himself look more deeply at the hip being offered him. "And what does the King want?"

"The King wants more than he can have, and he knows it."

"I have done some very crazy things in my days, but sleeping with the King's girlfriend seems, somehow, the most foolhardy." He approached the bed warily, like an animal. Jahaila sat up and moved forward so that he was between her two legs. The blanket fell off of her and she laid a land on his thigh – it was tight with anticipation.

"Kinda fun though, isn't it?"

Anders reached forward to take her face in his hand. She caught his thumb in her mouth, sliding her tongue around it and exerting a gentle suction. Anders groaned and moved forward. Jahaila stretched her legs apart to make more room for him.

"Are you still feeling emasculated?"

"Much less so, happily."

"I'm so glad to hear that," Jahaila said and she ran a hand up his leg. Past the tall boots, his legs were bare and Jahaila had no trouble easing his smalls off his hips, which moved helpfully, and taking his long erection in her hand. It was warm and wide, and the mage let his head tilt back in pleasure when she took it. Jahaila felt the familiar thrill of power and she stroked him once, lightly, and squirmed in exquisite anticipation. She couldn't decide where she wanted him first. She wanted him everywhere, all at once. She imagined him snaking up inside her slick self, pounding at the heat with her hips in his hands. She imagined him stretching her ass in slow, even pumps. "Take everything off," she commanded. Anders released the knots of his robes with practiced ease and was standing naked before her in no time. He was younger than Alistair, she was pleased to notice. As fit, but more sinewy, less muscled, and far more at his ease standing derobed under her consideration. He moved a hand idly to his erection and moved his hand over it, not hard enough to move the skin.

"Like what you see?" He asked her, in the same tone with which he'd begged for a bath.

"Very much," she said, and she reached for him.

He caught her hands. "Not likely, Warden. Get back on the bed."

Jahaila shot backwards, delighted at his lead, and spread her legs for him. She was wet through and aching to be pounded, but he didn't position his hips in front of hers. Instead, he knelt on the thin carpet, tucked his arms under her hips, and raised her slick folds towards him.

Jahaila moaned in anticipation. This was not Alistair's specialty, though he was reluctantly improving. Anders took a flap of skin between his lips and sucked gently. Jahaila arched her back encouragingly and he placed his thumb at her opening. He moved it in lazy circles, smearing her moisture around.

"You know what I like about women?" he asked her.

"What?"

"Pussy." And with that, he went at her in earnest, burying his long nose in her folds and taking the exposed nub of her clit gently between his lips. He sucked at it – Jahaila felt it pull farther out of its encasing skin – and rubbed his tongue against it. As it retreated, he sucked again, then caught it, exposed, and worked the wet muscle of his tongue on it again. Jahaila felt like grinding herself into his face to get more of the sensation and wondered briefly if this is what it felt like to be a man. She felt one of his long fingers slip inside her and bend to rub against the ridge running up the front of her canal. She moved a hand to her stomach and pushed so that he could reach more of it.

Jahaila closed her eyes and let the sensations drain her thoughts. The urge to push herself into the face of the man between her thighs came over her again and she permitted herself a slight movement. His free hand worked itself under her ass and pulled her harder into her thrusts. He went back to sucking on her clit again, trying to keep it exposed in her own folds. Wetness swirled around her. Encouraged, she pushed harder at him and he met the pressure by moving in equal pressure against her.

The finger withdrew itself and Jahaila wasn't sad. There was almost too much going on down there to pay proper attention to it all, but the reprieve was only temporary. She felt the same wet finger probe gently at the opening of her raised ass, and Anders's mouth left her clit long enough for him to ask, "This okay?"

"Oh yes, please." Jahaila managed to get out. His mouth went back on her, coaxing her swollen clit larger. The finger circled around her several times, pausing at the backmost point each time, to pull her wider. At the pause of the third pass, he pushed gently at her. "Harder, Anders, please." He obeyed and sunk his finger past the tight muscle. He paused, letting her adjust to the stretch, then he started thrusting lazily. Jahaila felt the wet friction of his finger behind her and the swelling pressure below her. He seemed to sense her loosening control, because he took his mouth off her clit.

"Can I fuck it?"

"I was really hoping that you would."

"Excellent. It's kind of my favourite thing." Jahaila felt his finger slip out of her and the slightly looser muscle started to close. "Knees," the mage commanded. Jahaila obeyed, raising herself on the mattress and feeling it sink slightly behind her as it took the mage's weight. She spread her legs to lower herself, but the mage positioned himself at her dripping cunt and thrust once, deep and hard. He withdrew, then slammed himself inside her again, and this time she was ready to match that second push. She felt her cunt expand take his girth and she moved a hand to her folds, squeezing her wet flaps around her pulsing clit. Anders pounded her a few more times, then pulled out and repositioned himself. Jahaila stopped the motions of her hand and hips so he could edge his tip at her anus. He took one of her cheeks in his hand and pulled her flesh to the side so that she widened before him.

Then he was pushing himself inside her, achingly slow. She felt each ridge and vein as it slid past the tight round pleasure. Once inside, she lost the sensation of it, but she relished the deliberate pressure, the stretch. Her body was alive from cunt to ass. She moved her hand back to resume her rub. Anders pulled himself in and out of her, each time fractionally increasing his pace. Jahaila swirled her wet folds around her swollen clit, but that pleasure was secondary to the desperate ache that was building behind her. Anders took both hips in his hands and began nailing her in earnest, slamming into her as fast and as hard as his athleticism permitted. Pleasure was rising in Jahaila like a fast tide.

"Oh – oh," she said, alerting him. She stopped the motion of her hands and simply held herself, one finger laying deep in her folds. "Oh!" Anders waited for the pleasure to surge through her, and as her muscles unclenched, he thrust twice more into her. His fingers dug into her hips, and he held her as close to him as their bodies would allow. A gutteral moan escaped him, and Jahaila held as still for him as he had for her. Gradually, his grip slackened and she slid forward, off him, and rolled over so she could see him. He was still in the same position, his head thrown back slightly. Her hand went back to her cunt to milk a few more stabs of ecstasy.

"I thought you liked pussy," she said.

He opened on eye to look at her on the bed before him. "Pussies are for eating. Asses are for fucking."

"We are going to get along very well, my friend."

He opened his eyes completely then. "Do we get to do this again?"

"Oh, I think we might."

"Excellent. I left the most intriguing toy back at the Keep. I think you'll love it."

Jahaila moved to one side of the inn's bed. Anders hesitated, then laid down beside her, their bodies not quite touching. "Let's keep it for when we're on the road though, okay? Alistair knows, but only in the abstract. I don't want to rub his face in it."

"Whatever allows me to keep my head."

"He's not a vindictive man, Anders."

"No. I suppose not." A slightly awkward silence fell between them. Anders cast around for something to say. "This bed is much nicer than my bed."

"Stay if you like." Jahaila was already arranging her pillow so that it lay at just the right angle against her body. Anders was tempted. He'd never slept inside, in a bed, with another person. It might be nice. He laid down. Jahaila shifted so that her thickly muscled leg was laying along his. Her skin was warm and soft. He turned so that he was facing her and put a hand on her thigh. She made a nice weight in the bed. He wondered what it was that she wanted, what drove her to these games.


End file.
